


Gardenias Are Oh So Sweet

by Ohlookitstomorrow



Series: Violet's, Tiara's And Desire [2]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: A continuation of my florist x masseuse AU, F/F, First Date, Hecate is a secret romantic, Seriously this is perhaps the fluffiest thing I've ever written, Sexual Content, don't forget the praise kink, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 04:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohlookitstomorrow/pseuds/Ohlookitstomorrow
Summary: Planning a date with Pippa is not as easy as arranging a bouquet, but, romance can be found if you are in the right place. Flowers are like diamonds when intermingled with gold.





	Gardenias Are Oh So Sweet

Unlike arranging a bouquet of flowers, arranging a successful date was something Hecate had no experience nor flair in. 

If Hecate were to design a flower arrangement for Pippa, she would gather a tasteful abundance of pink and white hyacinth’s, for her playfulness and loveliness alike. Gardenias, for the sweetness of her taste. Perhaps she’d hide a single bird of paradise in the centre, indicating her own anticipation and nervous excitement. And of course, she could not forget to add a cluster of violets, as they were Pippa’s favourite (among other more erotic, lustful reasons.) 

But unlike the art of floristry, romance was not something Hecate partook in on a daily occurrence, in fact, it was something she never partook in at all. 

Somehow, the typical locations of a first-date seemed utterly inadequate when it came to the thought of wooing a creature like Pippa. 

Hecate attempted researching how to make such an event a successful one, but each piece of advice turned out to be completely generic. Something that cropped up time and time again, was confidence. The only place Hecate was confident in, was her shop, but she couldn’t host Pippa (a woman who was probably used to being wined and dined in the finest establishments) in a simple florist’s, could she? 

 

XXX 

 

Standing in the middle of her darkened shop, Hecate wrung her hands tight, as a glow of pink and gold stepped through the door. 

Pippa was like an apparition from the heavens. Bountiful curls bounced atop shoulders decked in floaty, pink chiffon and Hecate could not help but notice the contrast between her own. How would golden curls and raven tresses mingle on her dark, silk sheets? 

“Good evening, Pippa.” Hecate’s greeting was stilted and oddly formal considering what they had already shared and hoped to repeat, on her part at least. She took small, shuffling steps that brought them within feet of touching distance, and oh how Hecate longed to touch. 

“Hecate,” thankful, Pippa had more of a social grace she breathed a sigh of relief as the blonde closed the distance and leaned up to place a lingering kiss on Hecate’s cheek. “I’m sorry I'm late,” Pippa was twenty-three minuets late precisely, Hecate knew, she’d been watching the ticking hands of the clock for the past hour. “I lost track of time getting ready and then I stopped off to pick you up this-” 

Hecate looked toward the bottle Pippa held aloft, a rather dark-pink wine. It was something trivial and only romantic in the current context but still, it made Hecate feel special and gratuitous that Pippa had actually thought of her. “Thank you, Pippa, but you didn’t have to do anything of the like.” 

“Nonsense,” Pippa chided. “I’m not even sure if you drink wine, I forgot to ask, but I know you like roses and it wouldn’t have been as significant for me to give a rose to a florist. So, a rosé wine was the best thing I could come up with.” 

It was a beautiful gesture and one that Hecate would treasure. Wine happened to be one of her favourite indulgences. Although, a deep bitter red was preferred to the sweetness of a rosé, the significance behind it made it all the more appealing. 

She ushered Pippa through the door behind the counter that led to her cramped conservatory. A proverbial forest of different flowers, it had been difficult for Hecate to clear enough space to lay a blanket and pillows, and surround it with candles. The ambience was not unlike Pippa’s massage room, the lighting and the glorious scents. But here was Hecate’s domain and here she hoped it would boost her confidence. 

“Oh, Hecate...” 

“Do you like it?” Hecate whispered, chin ducking, a tendril of hair escaping the bun that was not half as tight as usual. 

“It’s wonderful,” Pippa breathed. Her gaze fluttered from flower to flower, like the springing of a bee, a glint of awe dazzling in her eyes. Finally, she looked upon the brunette stood at her side, connecting their hands, “it’s so beautiful...it’s so you.” 

Under the moonlit night they sat, demurely at first, legs tucked beneath them. The wine flowed freely, it brought mirth to Pippa’s laugh and colour to the pallor of Hecate’s cheeks. A simple picnic of bread, cheese and fruits was sampled, Pippa unable to stop herself from brushing the stray crumbs from Hecate’s lips. Every line and indent were very much felt, and when a tongue peeked out expecting salt, all it savoured was sweetness. 

For desert, Hecate had procured a variety of Ada’s chocolates, her friend had looked at her with suspicion upon hearing Hecate’s mumbled request. But nonetheless, Ada had said nothing bar an all-knowing wink and Hecate had been assured that each sweet was individually crafted with a list of floral fragrances that had been named. 

Pippa was immediately drawn to a white chocolate truffle that had been stained a lilac colour. The moan that escaped her lips upon the first taste, had reverberated through the night and settled in Hecate’s core. Apparently, the chocolate tasted like parma violets, and despite Hecate’s indifference to confectionary, it would have been unthinkable not to swallow the bite Pippa sensuously placed before her lips. 

Little of importance was verbalised. Tonight, communication was spoken through the senses. The intake of breath was heard. The shift of movement was seen. The brushing of fingers was felt. And the scent of desire clouded it all. 

The decorum and restraint that had been previously observed was thrown out of the metaphorical window when Hecate tentatively presented Pippa with a tiara of flowers. She’d spent the previous day, drying them out and weaving them like wicker, green wire held the structure and the shrivelled violets could easily have been any precious jewel. 

Of course, such a gift held a deeper meaning (one much more carnal than had the headpiece been made of silver) but Pippa still cried, as though she’d just been handed the Koh-I-Noor, she seemed overwhelmed by the amount of thought and care Hecate had put into the delicate treasure. And it was a treasure, but Pippa would soon find out, that anything Hecate did, was done with an overwhelming intensity: it was all or nothing. 

Laid out before her on the blanket, skin like honey, her crown knitted through strands of gold, Hecate knew Pippa would put even Aphrodite herself to absolute shame. Although she had seen Pippa in an intimate setting before, Hecate wasn’t prepared for it to be placed before her all at once. She was granted the permission to touch, feel and most importantly, to taste. 

They could not part their lips. Each swipe of a tongue brought something new. Something much deeper than either woman expected. Hecate had known she didn’t want this to last just one night, but she hadn’t known she wanted a lifetime. For a lifetime was what it would take, to truly appreciate Pippa’s grandeur. 

Hecate kissed dusty-pink nipples, drawing them into her mouth and savouring the closeness. The cool night air hardened them, and once released, the glisten Hecate had left upon them, gave them the appearance of savoury-sweet and glazed. 

The noises Pippa made, culminated in the greatest symphony as Hecate delved between her thighs. Wet and warm, the fact she had reduced Pippa to such a state, made Hecate squeeze her own legs together, electrical fires were hazardous and Pippa was the generator. 

Pippa finally took down her lovers’ hair after admitting her wish to do so all evening. That is where her fingers settled once Hecate’s tongue swirled over a bundle of nerves and fingers probed her entrance. Permission was freely given and praise doused upon the brunette working so diligently, the utterance of how it felt, how good it felt, how good she was, how she was a good girl. Words that only spurred Hecate on further. 

Pippa tasted of everything, only the most desperate see a mirage, but this was real, the pull of her hair and the weight of Pippa’s thighs, draped across her shoulders, told her so. Hecate could not bear this to end and when signs of Pippa’s oncoming orgasm approached, Hecate welcomed them to be bitter-sweet. 

Her eyes trailed the length of Pippa, watching the curve of her back and the appearance of, what could only be described as, absolute bliss, cross her pretty face. Ingrained upon her memory forever, this would be. 

It was with great reluctance Hecate moved to claim waiting lips. Lips that then collected a trail of wetness that had slid down Hecate’s chin. Her own desire had not been forgotten but very much in tuned with Pippa’s release. 

It did not take long for the favour to be repaid, and the pair to recline in one-another's arms. 

The stars above sparkled as they watched them through the glass roof, every inch of them touching, unwilling to part. 

Yes, not much was said that night, but much was learned and come to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Hecate Hardbroom, marry me, PLEASE!? 
> 
> I'm not used to writing fluff at all, unleash it's drowning in angst, so please let me know what you think?
> 
> You can find me on instagram @ohlookitstomorrow  
> and tumblr @ohlookitstomorrowff


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